Sedated
by The Wolf's Shadow
Summary: Everything started so perfectly. And it went very wrong. Which is why Shawn isn't answering his phone and all the food is rotting in his fridge. But he's not really worried about that at the moment... Whump!
1. Chapter 1

One smoothie topped with real, _rich_, whipped cream.

Check.

One delightful walk in the bright sunshine under the wonderful blue sky next to the gorgeous sandy beach and the people on the beach who will go home with sand in places they didn't even know about... Uh...

Check.

One hot-rod, to die for, love and cherish forever motorcycle parked right where I left it.

Check.

One bu-tific, boo-tific, beutific? One happy smile on my face. Notched up to three.

Triple-check.

One hop onto to die for motorcy-

One strange noise behind the Psych office?

Cheeeeck...

Two strange-er men making strange noise behind Psych office.

Check.

Two men rapidly approaching.

Check.

One Shawn rapidly retreating.

Double check.

One lead pipe rapi-

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><p><em>All Inclusive <strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own any part of Psych or anything related to it. If you recognize it or if it sounds even remotely legitimate or real... chances are I don't own it. _

_If you absolutely have to read a disclaimer before every chapter you peruse/review(!), come back here and read this one. It's not going anywhere._


	2. Chapter 2

Ungh_..._ Whatever happened last night must have been _awesome_...

This floor is cold. And dirty. Ew...

Must be at my place.

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><p>"When do you think he'll wake up?"<p>

Crap. Not at my place.

"I've got five bucks that say he'll be up in the next two minutes."

"Ten against yah." He sounds sort of smug.

I bet he's the one who hit me.

One of them is walking towards me now. Really wish they wouldn't...

"Hey you, wake up."

"Now come on, that's cheating!"

"Wake up!" He punctuates the sentence by giving my face a good slap. It even makes that funny slap sound. Now someone just lost ten dollars. I don't feel sorry for him.

Some grumbling noises later I am officially 'waking up'. So I open my eyes, doing my best impression of someone who hasn't been awake for the past five minutes, and push myself to a sitting position. First thing I notice now that I'm up: my face hurts like Drimmer just came back from the dead and decided to pistol-whip me every time I make and eighties reference.

Ignoring the obvious pain, now my eyes are open I can tell a lot more about my situation. _Joys..._

I _am_ sitting on a cold (my backside is fuh-reezing) and dirty floor. Note to self: shower when you get home. This disgusting floor is in some sort of empty, abandoned, forsaken office building. At least that's what it looks like from from the front desk, work spaces, break room, and accumulation of dust. That and the fact no-one's here to notice I'm being held hostage.

Wait, Drimmer isn't dead... Is he? Ungh...

I swallow in an attempt not to puke up my guts all over "Five Buck's" shoes. My face really hurts and the puce walls aren't helping much.

Five Bucks is squatting next to me. He's wearing... I don't really care what he's wearing. But he's going to make a police description really hard. The guy's got regular brown hair, brown eyes, and he's white. _Stupid white guy_. I can do better than this though... Right handed. Not the one to knock me out; Ten Bucks did that. Um, well crap. Better luck with the next guy...

Ten Bucks looks a lot like Five Bucks. Only he's a little blonder. And has a better tan. Maybe I should try again when I'm more coherent... And take a little longer than two seconds. Good idea.

"Woah! Don't puke on me, dude!"

Ha, too late.

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><p><em>AN: Thanks go out to thewarpedmind1, torchil, psychlover23, and Sumiko Mikazuki for reviewing. (Just so you guys know, I'm really bad at answering reviews.)_

_This story is really just going to be an exercise in fun (and in first person). I'll just be going where it takes me. If you have any suggestions feel free to tell me about them. I'll try to update at least once a week. That's all for now, folks!  
><em>


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